


Love and Trouble are Both Worth Making

by charleybradburies



Series: The Tremendous and Spine-Tingling [2]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Based on a Tumblr Post, Bickering, Bullying, Canon Disabled Character, Co-workers, Community: 1_million_words, Drinking, Engagement, Established Relationship, F/M, Female-Centric, Implied Sexual Content, Inspired By Tumblr, Not Canon Compliant, One Shot, POV Female Character, Payback, Public Display of Affection, Rings, Scheming, Secret Relationship, Spies & Secret Agents, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 03:09:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3472217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charleybradburies/pseuds/charleybradburies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy is fed up with her fathead male coworkers. And this time, it's personal.</p><p>[Alternatively, public displays of affection and crying make people very uncomfortable.]</p><p>EDITED ON 3.22.15</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love and Trouble are Both Worth Making

**Author's Note:**

> a) The general plot and many of the lines are original ideas; however, I did take some plays from the playbook of 'littlesciencebabies' on tumblr, who wrote a lovely headcanon very similar to this final version of the fic.
> 
> ba) 'Rug' is slang for toupee.
> 
> bb) That's part of the punchline in that specific line. I also feel compelled to point out that they don't really react right then to her following their query about 'Daniel's girl' with the denomination of herself as such - she's the only woman in the office, save for their phone operator and cover, Rose, so even notwithstanding other circumstances, they'd have to be referring to Peggy.
> 
> edit c. 3.22.15
> 
> c) This originally was a one shot. However, as I was working on another headcanon-inspired one shot, I realized that the plots tied into each other rather well, and sort of ran with that, with the other basically being a prologue to this one. I've put the two works into a series, and there are some details in this one that don't quite work with the other timeline-wise, so I've made some edits to this fic. This version, however, does not differ in its actual plot or anything other than those details.
> 
> Thanks for reading!! xx

“Scuttlebutt is, Sousa stayed after and drove ‘er home.”

“That torch is burnin’ up, poor kid.”

_Dammit, Thompson._

Obviously, these agents hadn’t been informed that she was in here changing. From the sound of it, there were only three of them, so it wasn’t like they were going to come over to where she was. She could handle hiding until they left.

“Bought her dinner the other night. Left here smiling 'bout it. When I asked, 'e said it was a date. Can you believe that?”

They all share a laugh, and Peggy momentarily considers shooting them. _She’d_ asked _him_ out in the first place - over a year ago. Of course, he’d needed to be reminded that it was actually a date, since he seemed so in disbelief, but he’d gotten over that after a few of them. Once she’d kissed him, he’d realized that she really wasn’t going with him because of pity or anything like that. It had been relatively smooth sailing since then, save for a couple of bumps in their road.

She knew the sorts of things the other agents tended to think of him - and that they were _very_ wrong - but she hadn’t known that they got quite this cruel about it. 

“Captain America’s gotta be rollin’ in his grave at the thought o’ his girl with a cripple.”

Peggy’s entire body tenses, and she _legitimately_ considers shooting them.

But they leave too quickly for that, chuckling together like the rotten fools they are. She slips on her blouse and peeks out the door until they’re just far enough not to realize she’d been in the room with them. 

She hears a stack of files drop on someone’s desk before she even reaches the office proper.

“Hey, Agent Crutch, where’s your girl?” comes a sneer from Agent O’Connell, just as she’s walking up behind the trio, and she keeps her aggressive stride as she heads over to her desk, meeting Daniel’s annoyed look before turning around. 

“I’m right here, Agent Rug,” she deadpans, taking her gun from its holster and sitting down at her desk. “But I don’t have time to make coffee right now. You’ll have to learn to do it yourself, like a big boy, if you expect any.”

She opens the first folder on her desk, and gets to work. Naturally, none of the men manage to say anything. 

***

“Ya comin’, Sousa?” Thompson queries, standing at the door as he slips his gloves on. 

“In a few,” Daniel nods, and Thompson turns his look toward Peggy.

“Couple of the guys are meeting their old ladies there, Carter. You could come if you want, might even make a friend.”

She looks up from her last bit of work. 

“I have far better things to do than spend an evening out with you lot. I think I’ll go walk on hot coals instead. That’ll keep me warm, and I won’t even be inebriated!”

“Point taken, Carter. I’ll see you on Monday,” he says sharply, and she sends him a smile she knows is visibly feigned. He nods a good-bye to the two agents and takes his leave.

“You are _really_ busting their chops today, Peg,” Daniel says, his telltale tone of pride not quite underscoring the observation.

“Oh, this is _nothing,”_ she says, and twirls her chair around to fully see his _adorable_ inquisitive expression. His smiles always make her feel warm. He chuckles, and she sees that he’s finishing up organizing his desk, so she sets her things in order quickly and stands up.

Hoping to prepare him slightly for what she’s got in mind for the night, she grabs both of their jackets off the rack. She usually helps him into his, often just by giving him a steady hand, but today when he instinctually goes to sling her jacket over her shoulders afterwards, she lets him do so. His hands stay at her shoulders as she zips it up, and pull her a bit closer, giving him the leverage to give her a soft kiss on her neck. 

She leans back into him, not deeply enough to put any weight on him to hold up, but just far enough to tilt her head around and kiss him. His arms wrap around her, and she pulls him closer. 

Oh, yes. Their coworkers were _definitely_ going to pay for their boorishness.

***

 _Here goes nothing,_ she thinks, and steps out of the cab. 

She straightens her dress as she stands up straight; it fits like a glove, just as it had when she’d worn it during the war. A couple passersby whistle, and she reminds herself that she’s on a mission. 

She runs her hands over the deep red fabric once more, purses her lips momentarily, and checks that the clasp of her necklace is hidden at the nape of her neck. A bit anxiously, her fingers play with her ring, and she tries not to think about how her coworkers are going to react to it.

_Better now than never...they'd find out anyway, even in the most extreme case of it being kept from them until our enjoyment of marriage necessitated my taking maternity leave. Probably better to give them a bit of time to get them accustomed to the idea._

It really does feel like a mission, she thinks, when she steps into the bar, her hands wrapped around her clutch and almost everyone’s eyes turning right to her by the time she’s taken only a step or two. She glances around until she spots the booth in the back of the bar with a crutch leaned up against the wall behind it, and she takes another deep breath before starting in that direction. A few soused men take their turns at the receiving end of her “put a single finger on my body and I swear to the Mother Mary I will kill you with my bare hands” look, all of whom back off sufficiently frightened after a few seconds.

The only man who she gives a - slightly - gentler look to is Agent Ramirez - the first at the table of her destination to notice her. 

“You clean up good, Carter,” he says, with a tone as teasing as it is surprised, as she approaches, and the rest of the table turns to her. Daniel, as usual, sits at one end of the booth’s bench, and she rests her hand on the bench behind his shoulder. Somehow, no one there seems to even notice the ring; she feels sorry for the pair of girls there, all too aware that the most likely reason they hadn't noticed the ring was that they were too busy noticing _her._

Thompson’s in the middle of a swig when she gets there, and he swallows quickly.

“Thought you had better things to do, Marge.”

She rolls her eyes at him.

“Well, you said a couple other agents were bringing their girls. That does warrant my presence. Figured it couldn’t kill me. And even if it tried, I am armed.”

“So, who you dressin’ up for?” Wilkes inquires, his tone dripping with amusement and taunting.

Peggy moves her hand to Daniel’s shoulder.

“Why, Daniel, of course,” she says, letting her voice catch his tone of mocking. 

“Right,” he winks, and he and most of the other agents laugh, barely even looking at her. The girls, however, are too smart for that. They’re sitting together and both looking straight at her, and their amusement, she sees, is different.

“Ethel,” the blonde sitting next to Thompson poses brightly, extending her hand to Peggy. “So, you’re Danny’s girl?”

“Coworker,” Thompson says quickly.

Peggy looks at Daniel with an inquisitive gaze as she returns the girl's grasp.

“I thought you’d told them.”

“They don’t believe me.”

“Oh, that’s unfortunate,” she says, taking a seat at the end of the booth, angling herself towards him, more on top of him than next to him, and the attitude seems to shift. She reaches to put her clutch on the table, and a couple gasps accompany her movement. There's no way they've missed the ring, now. An engagement ring _was_ a bit telling, wasn't it?

Underneath the table, Daniel's hands reach across her legs, one palm coming to sit atop her right thigh. 

It’s bold, even for her, but she goes through with it anyway: she graces his cheek with her hand and kisses him. Hard. 

***

“What the hell was _that_?” Daniel asks her when the door to the bar closes behind them, his hand still fiercely gripping hers, fingers focusing on her ring so casually their movements are almost nonchalant - she _has_ been wearing it for a couple of months - and she swings back around to look at him. He looks more impressed than anything, and she's honestly not surprised. 

“Would you believe me if I told you I got lonely?”

“Not at all.”

“Good. Because I planned the whole thing.”

Daniel laughs, and pulls her in close, kissing her hard enough for her to lose her balance. Normally, that would worry her, but she feels one of his arms wind around her, pressing her body against his, and his grip is so strong that she knows neither of them will fall. She wraps her arms tightly around his neck and pushes herself onto her tiptoes to make it even easier for him to hold her. 

They spend easily a few minutes kissing like that, in the middle of the sidewalk, letting the not-yet-dangerous throngs of pedestrians pass around them. It’s not unlike quite a few other moments they’ve had - they do seem to have a proclivity for the tremendous and spine-tingling. 

Eventually, Daniel pulls an inch or so away, smiles stuck on both their faces. 

“You know what? I think we have far better things to do than hang around here any longer,” he whispers in her ear, and she bites her lip, knowing precisely to what he’s referring.

“Will you call the cab, or shall I?” she whispers in response.

He laughs gently, reaching his hand up to run a fingertip along her jawline.

“I came here from work, remember? My car’s a block down.”

She nods, and though she’s reluctant to do so, she pulls farther away from him, moving so that they’re both standing on their own and then wrapping her arms around his free arm, allowing them to walk together back to the New York Bell building.


End file.
